


Game On

by DeepBlueQL



Category: Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 04:50:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20058295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepBlueQL/pseuds/DeepBlueQL
Summary: Jordan toys with Jack.





	Game On

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted November 9, 2006.

His voice catches, barely noticeable, but he doesn’t think for a second she missed it, that she wasn’t waiting for it. He makes a study of not looking at her, of smoothly continuing this meeting with the various heads of studios. 

But somewhere between the graph of statistics and the statistics on graphs, she flexes her foot and that wouldn’t be such a diversion except for the fact that her foot is planted firmly in his lap. She begins to gently rub, and he barely manages to conceal his gasp with a cough. 

Someone offers him water and as he waves away their concern, his eyes meet hers. She smiles wickedly from across the table currently hiding her pedal teasing. 

The meeting continues, and everyone speaks but he can’t hear a thing, as if the room's been muted. He reaches beneath the desk to still her frisky foot, but the sensation of her persistent heel between his legs and her toes wriggling against his palm drive him to distraction and he realizes a few moments too late that someone is asking him a question. 

He drops her foot like a lit coal, it certainly was making him hot enough to burn, and folds his hands on the table; each clutching the other tightly to keep from straying below. He looks at the faces around the table and his mind falters when he realizes he has no idea who asked the question, what the question is and, most importantly, what the answer is. 

The fluorescent lights catch the victorious gleam in her eyes and she smoothly responds for him, all the while shamelessly grinding her foot. He fights to maintain a stern expression but his eyes threaten to roll into his head and he can feel his jaw slacken. The heads all nod and apparently the meeting has ended. 

She mercifully removes her foot just before he embarrasses himself and puts on her shoe. Everyone rises, an option not available to him, so he chooses to glare as she bids them farewell at the door. 

When the last person leaves, she closes the door with a click and makes her way to his side of the small conference room. She sets her hip against the corner of the table and before he can choke out a question as to why, she grabs his tie, using it to pull him towards her. She meets him halfway, leaning so close, her cheek almost resting against his. 

“I win. You lose, Jack,” she whispers, and just to make sure she’s pushed him over the edge, her tongue darts out and traces the shell of his ear. 

His tautly pulled control snaps and he stands, surging forward, unbalancing her. One hand grips her hip and he can feel her flushed skin beneath the cool silk of her skirt. His shoulders push her backwards until she’s practically lying beneath him on the table. 

“Oh no, Jordan, this has just begun,” he scoffs as her eyes widen and her breaths become heavier. He catches her mouth in a bruising kiss before she can give a smart reply, his other hand intentionally fisting in her hair, the careful coif now in disarray. He pulls away just as she begins to react, opening her mouth, hoping to deepen the kiss. He gets up and heads for the door, and she can barely hear his parting words over her shallow pants. 

“Game on, Sugar.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
